


Moonflower

by cherryinerror



Series: Aquilegia [7]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 14:39:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16097714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryinerror/pseuds/cherryinerror
Summary: Pregnancy hormones can be quite fun sometimes.





	Moonflower

It's a hot summer night and they're out, his steps synchronizing with hers on the sidewalk, they're hand in hand, discussing baby names and rock bands because, according to Dante, it's important for their kid to know good music early on. Little talks about a near future making her laugh and giggle, her eyes sparkling as moonlight shines over her.

She's been spending so much time inside the shop, bored out of her mind, it's only fair he takes her out for a night in the city. He's been preparing for this, steering away from bets and debts (which loosely translates to ignoring them completely), making a list consisting of all the places he knows she likes to go, coming up with ways to distract her from the morning sickness and the mood swings. Thankfully, the former has settled down quite significantly, subsiding each day, allowing her to eat more than crackers or anything else that doesn't resemble bird food.

They're coming back from a nice dinner in which she ordered pasta and ate it with such enthusiasm that left them both chuckling once she was done, and now the plan is to take her to the park so they can sit around and pretend there's nothing else going on in the world except everything that's happening to them. 14 weeks into this pregnancy and if the books he's been reading are anything to go by, their baby is the size of a lemon. A small piece of knowledge that sends him flying into a kind of happiness he can't explain, but also drags him into a state of frenzy every now and then.

Nothing too distressing, just the usual panic of someone who is not blind to the fact the universe is random and hideous at times and horrible things happen for no reason at all.

He's been trying to practice mindfulness, paying attention to the moment he's in instead of picturing a future where everything goes wrong and any sort of control slips from his reach, pulling him down into the abyss that is the fear of losing another loved one. It's been going well, actually, the whole 'being in the moment' thing, it's just that sometimes it's tough not to fixate on all the bad scenarios.

As if picking up on his train of thought, Lady squeezes his hand gently and he turns his head to look at her, catches her smiling. She's wearing a white, loose summer dress that goes all the way down to the middle of her thighs and she looks almost ethereal, full of love, intangible in her peacefulness. She claims the dress is more comfortable and she doesn't want to feel constricted in tight clothes when it's so hot outside. On the other hand, he's a mess in his black pants and red t-shirt, an inexcusable chaos, he's more than aware, but she's beautiful.

He stops dead in his tracks, forcing her to do so as well.

"What?" she asks.

His next move is not a surprise.

In one single motion she's in his hold, parting her lips, accepting his need, his kiss, accepting him so fully he's not sure he even deserves it. He cups her face as he deepens the kiss, she wraps her arms around his neck and he slides his hands down to her waist, brings her closer. Life goes on around them, such normalcy gleaming unnoticed, a couple of cars driving by, some people on the other side of the street talking loudly and snickering and it all gets tangled up somewhere in Dante's head, lost forever, his undivided attention on the woman in his arms.

She's the one to pull back first, gasping. "Dante," her voice trembles through each syllable of his name. "We should go home."

The request takes him by surprise, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. They've never been big on being all over each other in public, and maybe he's done something wrong but he pushes the thought out of his mind. She wants to go home and he won't force her to explain or feel bad about it. Luckly, they're not that far from the shop, but he asks her if she wants him to call a cab anyway. She shakes her head no, biting her bottom lip.

His heart skips a beat, compeling him to give in, "Is everything okay?" he asks, and she nods, the lack of words leaving him apprehensive.

They make their way back home, still holding hands, and when they arrive Lady gets inside first, Dante following a second later, closing the door and turning around to face her.

"Did something happen to-"

He doesn't get to finish the sentence, not when she's throwing her arms around his neck, her lips crashing down on his. He's taken back by the action, eyes wide as he almost loses his balance, but it doesn't take long for him to understand, to smile in the middle of her kiss and grab a better hold of her, one hand on her hip and the other on the back of her neck.

"This is why you wanted to come back?" he asks once they break apart, grinning, perfect white teeth showing.

"These stupid pregnancy hormones are driving me _insane_ ," she explains. "And then you go and kiss me like that."

"I guess that was very cruel of me."

"It was."

"I'll make it up to you then," he says in between kisses, sweeping her off her feet. She holds on to him as he carries her upstairs with ease, both of them laughing, not even bothering to check if they're alone.

Once they reach the bedroom, he sets her down on the floor, kisses her again while she reaches for his belt, fingers working to unbuckle it, they're in another dimension and nothing can get to them, nothing, not even the randomness of a screwed up universe; she eases his pain and he doesn't know if he does the same for her, sometimes he wonders if he's even worth of so much care, but he tries, he does, tries so fucking hard to make her happy, anything to get her smiling.

Drawing his head back, he strokes her cheek, her lips swollen, the scar across her nose has started to fade away and he still remembers when it looked fresh, all pink and angry, her eyes full of rage and hatred. He feels her hands tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, and he steps back a little to take it off, messing up his hair in the process and smiling at her when she runs her hands up his chest, tilting her head a bit to the side, searching for yet another kiss. His tongue fills her mouth, savoring her taste, candy-coated happiness as his hand snakes under her dress, fingers pulling at the waistline of her panties just to tease, to get her pressing against him in that way she always does, silently demanding more.

She gasps for air and he drags his lips away from her mouth only to plant little kisses all the way down her neck, licking a spot there and sinking his teeth into her flesh lightly, enjoying the way her hands grip his biceps, clingling on to him so she won't lose her balance. It's tempting to leave a mark right there, the devil in him begging for it, eyes flashing red, lost in the selfish thought. But once his greed flares, he stops, takes a deep breath and gives a tender kiss on her lips, noisy and quick.

They're so close he can feel the heat emanating from her body, driving him mad, a certain type of insanity he doesn't mind dying for. He groans the second he feels her palming him through his pants, his cock already swelling with need and her little smirk is not helping his state of mind at all. A shiver down his spine, his name is a murmur on her tongue, and he watches as she moves to the bed, takes off her dress and shoes, stands there wearing only a pair of white cotton panties, waiting, pride in her chest as he takes in the sight of her.

Approaching her as if she's some kind of prey, he locks his lips on hers one more time but he's so gentle, he's so sweet, his touch lingers on her skin with all the adoration he saves for her, all the longing in his heart. And if he's the bad one, if he's the one who loses everything, then he's holding on to her with everything he's got because oh there isn't a soul left in this world that will steal her from him. She saves him every day by just being there, he's in love, he's so desperately in love and a happy ending doesn't seem so far-fetched these days.

To hell with the cruelty of this universe, to hell with the _what ifs_ , to hell with everything that sets them back, he can fix all of their problems, he knows, he can fix them all and he will, he swears, he will fix everything.

He sits by the edge of the bed, pulls her to his lap, small kisses on her chest, a hand cupping her right breast carefully, she's extremely sensitive and there's a very thin line between pleasure and pain; he looks up at her to search for approval and she nods, so he swirls his tongue around her nipple lightly and her breath hitches in her throat but she asks him to do it again, justt like that, and he complies, alternating between one breast and the other, melting into her little moans.

She's moving her hips to get some friction, he's so hard now, so fucking hard and it's because of her, only her. Reaching between her legs, he touches her through the fabric of her panties, her mouth hangs open, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Look at you," he taunts, grinning. "Soaking wet..."

"Then be good to me," is her resquest, the dreamy mist in her urgency clouding his mind for a short second.

"Get on your back," he says, and she wastes no time doing so.

Adjusting himself so he's right in front of her, his knees sinking into the soft mattress, fingers hooking under the waistband of her panties and pulling them down quickly, discarding the piece of clothing by throwing it over his shoulder. His hands slide up and down her sides, she spreads her legs apart for him and he leans forward, drags his lips across her inner thighs, making his way up, and he doesn't tease her this time, no, he wants her too much.

It's a delicate start, the way he explores every inch of her, runs his tongue along her slit, long licks from her entrance to her clit before swirling the tip of his tongue around the small bundle of nerves, lapping at it as she grabs hold of his hair, tries to control the rhythm but loses hope of doing so when he slides two fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out of her steadly. She arches her back, rocking her hips against his mouth, she's so worked up that she's already close, so damn close she's seeing stars and the gods and the angels and everything that can come crushing down on her, she's so close she wants to scream and tell him to never stop because this is all she wants to feel for the rest of her life.

Then it hits her, that first wave, and she calls out for him, body quivering, the overwhelming pleasure teetering on the brink of overstimulation, but he keeps going and soon she's crying out and coming undone in his mouth. He draws back, looks at her, licks his bottom lip so her taste will persist a bit longer and she sits up, gives him a hungry kiss and he rests his forehead on hers.

Her breathing is heavy, face warm, rosy cheeks and smooth lips.

"You always taste so sweet," he confesses in a rough tone, cupping her face with his right hand, thumb swiping back and forth in a gentle caress, tracing the lines of her mouth.

She swallows the lump forming in her throat, "I want more," she begs, soft-laced anguish hiding in her want, in her every move as she works on unzipping his pants. "I want more, Dante, _please_."

Hypnotized, he nods, lets go of her to take off his pants, kick off his shoes and he barely has time to think of anything else before focusing on her once more, robbing her of another kiss as she lets herself fall back on the mattress slowly and he's careful not to crush her, using his arms to support himself. She's trapped under him, eyes glistening with lust, skin glowing.

He groans when she reaches down to wrap both hands around his cock, jerking him off, the movement of her arms pushing her breasts together, and he lets himself enjoy it for a little while longer, her touch is both fervent and calming and she knows how he likes it, knows exactly how to get him going, how to twist her hand at every upstroke so her thumb presses against that sensitive spot right under the head of his cock, knows how to keep enough pressure to make him throw his head back and moan and oh, he wants her mouth too, wants everything he can get even if that makes him a greedy bastard, but they can work that out later, they have time..

His voice is strained when he says her name, the tip of his tongue clicking against the back of his teeth at the start of it, and she gets the hint, brings her hands up to her chest, lifts her hips slightly as he guides himself into her in one slow thrust, taking his time until he's buried to the hilt and she's shutting her eyes and moaning, drowning in the sensation of having him so deep and she's so tight around him, she's all his, forever his, and he's hers, let it be known that he's hers.

He doesn't move right away, she circles his waist with her legs, ankles crossed as he leans down to give her yet another kiss, and that's when her arms go around his neck and he finally starts thrusting into her, a moderate pace, and she clings to him, allows herself to be carried by his rhythm and they move like that for a while, she relinquishes any hope of being the one in control today, trusts him with everything.

His face is an inch away from hers, she opens her eyes to stare into his and he picks up the pace a bit.

"Harder," she pleads.

"Yeah?" but he doesn't wait for confirmation, goes harder, does everything she wants him to, repeats the motion again and again.

Then he stops, her protest dissolving in his mouth and he starts grinding into her, increasing and decreasing the pace until he's back to thrusting, sliding in and out of her with sweet, long strokes until she's begging once more and this time he goes a little faster, just enough for her to tell him she's close, enough for him to give her open mouthed kisses and whisper in her ear for her to come for him again, come around his cock because he's close too.

She starts moving her hips against his, trying to match his rhythm and then she opens her mouth in a silent scream, comes just as he wanted, squeezing around his cock, feeling every inch of him and he keeps himself in check even if every cell in his body is imploring him to let go of any sense of control, let his movements grow erratic and sloppy and fast but he holds back, he does, he holds back.

The pressure builds in him, blue eyes scanning her face, the way she's still clinging to him, what an insane thing to feel so safe and he'll rip to shreds anyone or anything that dares touch her, he hopes she knows this, he hopes she knows this because he can't say these words out loud, can't stand the thought of not having her.

Supporting his weight on his left arm, he drops his right one to her side, hand resting on her waist as he grits his teeth and comes throbbing inside of her, groaning and she's telling him it's okay, that's how she wants it, it's okay.

They're both panting when he gives her a kiss before slipping out of her and rolling to the side, quickly pulling her to him, waiting until the high subsides.

"I gotta say," he starts after a moment, regaining his composure. "I kinda like the stupid pregnancy hormones."

She snorts and then gives in to a fit of laughter, covering her face with both her hands and he can't stop smiling at her when she looks at him. "You're such an idiot," she says, but soon admits, "I kinda like them too."

"In that case I propose we don't leave the bedroom."

"That sounds like a plan."  
  
And for the rest of the night, at least for them, the world stops.


End file.
